Making a Point
by DemonicSymphony
Summary: Irene shows up when Sherlock takes John to the gay bar on John's Stag Night.


Sherlock sat beside John at the bar as they watched half-naked men on the dance floor. Though it primarily catered to the male demographic, they'd seen a few women around the, well, club was likely a generous word for the space they were in, but calling it a bar or pub seemed a bit inadequate.

"I cannot believe you brought me to a gay bar for my stag, Sherlock… Really, well done you." John rolled his eyes as he sipped his beer.

An amused smirk appeared on Sherlock's face as he leaned closer. "As if you aren't enjoying the sight of those two army recruits dancing. You've barely taken your eyes off them."

"Shut up, Sherlock." John huffed, but there was a grin on his face.

Sherlock was half turned to John when the men on the dance floor started parting, revealing a striking woman with flourished movements. Both he and John turned to look, drawn by the actions. Gliding across the polished wood as though she she owned the place, was Irene Adler.

"Sherlock-" John nearly choked as he watched her move to Sherlock.

Irene reached out and smoothed the lapel of Sherlock's suit jacket as she spoke. "Hello, darling. It's been some time since Karachi hasn't it?"

John's jaw clenched for a moment and he drew in a deep breath. "You knew? Knew she wasn't in America? Knew that there was no witness protection?"

"Of course I did, John." Sherlock's eyes cut to him for a moment. "You really are a terrible liar."

"Right, of course I am… Irene…" John gave her a sharp nod as he stood, abandoning his beer. "I think I'm for the dance floor or… somewhere. Pardon."

Irene smiled as she watched him go before turning her attention back to Sherlock. "Well, he's still hung up on you."

"Mm, well, good thing he's getting a wife to get him past it." Sherlock murmured as he looked up at her. "How was Bangkok?"

"Oh, very good, darling. Tell me, what was it that tipped you off? What gave me away?" Irene asked as she slotted herself between his knees. Her hands slid along his thighs as she leaned in.

Sherlock smiled as he nodded to her hair. "Your pin's craftsmanship is exclusive to the area, which wouldn't be enough on its own, but you've still got a bit of dust on it… It isn't dirt though, it's spices. Spices only found in that combination in a certain sector of Bangkok in the marketplace."

The smile on Irene's face brightened. "Well done, you… Oh, I have missed that brain of yours."

She trailed her fingertips over his jaw. "He's getting married."

"That he is…" Sherlock answered as he observed the dance floor over her shoulder.

"I can't decide if that's a pity or a blessing." Irene purred as she leaned in.

"Why are you here?" Sherlock huffed as he tilted his head slightly to look at her.

A small smile was on her lips as she watched him. "Well, I have my ways of getting news still… When I heard about your little doctor's plans for marital bliss, well, I wanted to come see how you were doing."

"I'm fine, Irene."

She chuckled as she drew him in for a slow kiss. Sherlock found his hand splayed against the small of her back as he returned her kiss. When she withdrew, Irene smirked. "Oh, John just doesn't know what he's missing, does he?"

Sherlock let out a sigh as he stood. He pulled her against him, moving them to the dance floor. The two of them moved together, Irene's body flush against his. Sherlock's hands slid along her body as he dipped and spun her, Irene's arms around his neck. They moved as though they'd been dancing for years, the music seemingly made for the twist and push of their bodies against one another. All too soon the song changed, and Sherlock took a breath before leading her back to the bar.

"How long will you be in London?" He asked as he signaled the bartender for two glasses of wine. Sherlock murmured for them to be put on his tab when the glasses were delivered.

"I'll be here a few days after the wedding." Irene spoke just above the music, her hand closing on the glass of wine as she watched him.

Sherlock, pulled her close again with his arm around her waist as they sipped their wine. Irene stroked his jaw, fingertips brushing over him in a tender caress. He leaned into the touch, his eyes closing for a moment, fingers tightening on his drink.

"Oh, Sherlock. It's going to work out for the best, you'll see."

Irene leaned towards him and pecked a small kiss on the corner of his mouth, then fully brushed her lips over his again. As she pulled away she smiled. "I'll see you after the wedding, darling. Don't you worry. I'm going to be in and out of London for a bit… At least until someone comes to his senses about this whole marriage business."

With that, Irene patted Sherlock's cheek and he watched her walk away. He noted John coming back, turning to face him as he walked up.

"She gone then?" John asked as he ordered a drink.

"For the time being…" Sherlock answered as he sipped at his wine.

"What the hell did she want?"

Sherlock didn't miss the possessive, jealous undertone to the words and a smirk curled the corner of his mouth up.

"You know... I do believe she wanted to prove a point."


End file.
